


Ambushed

by badly_knitted



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Community: fic_promptly, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5312588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badly_knitted/pseuds/badly_knitted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a retrieval mission, Ianto realises he really should have been more alert for danger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ambushed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my own prompt ‘Any, any, Ambushed,’ at fic_promptly.

The trouble with ambushes is that you never see them coming. Ianto had been at this job for long enough that he was more than a little annoyed with himself for getting caught; his only excuse was that it was late, he was tired, and they’d been searching the dark alleys for what seemed like hours, looking for what the Rift had dropped off this time, so maybe he was slower than usual to react. Nevertheless, it shouldn’t have happened, not with all the training and practice he’d had.

Tosh’s readings had been inconclusive; she hadn’t been able to say whether what they were looking for was a living creature or an inanimate object. It wasn’t her fault, a lot of the things that came through the Rift were difficult to identify and there were enough kinds of organic technology in the universe that it was usually best to err on the side of caution. That was why Jack had decided to involve the entire team on the latest retrieval mission. Naturally, once they’d arrived in the general area, they’d split up to cover the ground more quickly, their earpieces in place to keep in touch with one another.

Splitting up had been a sound idea in principle, but it hadn’t really speeded anything up, partly because even with Torchwood’s powerful flashlights, searching alleys littered with all kinds of trash was inevitably a slow process. All Ianto had heard over his own earpiece were various members of the team, chiefly Owen, complaining that they had better things to do than be poking through stinking garbage at this time of night, and can’t we just give up and go home? 

Maybe if it hadn’t been for Owen droning in his ear, Ianto might have heard something, had some warning and a chance to take evasive action instead of being grabbed from behind and pinned face first against the wall by a heavy, almost suffocating weight. He could feel hot breath on the side of his neck and then teeth were grazing the tender flesh. His heart pounded double-time and his breath caught in his throat as he froze in place, forcing himself not to retaliate, or even to twitch. A hot tongue lapped slowly; Ianto swallowed hard and his legs turned to jelly at the low, hungry growl that came from his assailant.

“Found what we were looking for. How about I send the others home and we can have a little fun?” Jack murmured, nipping at Ianto’s ear; Ianto was only too happy to agree.

The End


End file.
